


Air To Breathe

by Sonny



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-09
Updated: 2004-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-12 18:44:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A LIFE IN PA vignette - Clay Buchanan, the main character of LIFE IN PA, and Michael have kissed... what kind of repercussions does it spread into Brian and Michael's life together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The back porch light came on before the door opened. Vic Grassi carried the two sacks of garbage toward the back disposal bin, preparing for the weekday pick up for the next day. Taking the two small steps down, he spooked himself when he caught sight of the shadow sitting on the backyard picnic table.

In his matching pajamas and color-coded robe, Vic put a weary hand to his heart. "Fuck, kid! Why didn't you make yourself known? I woulda let you in. No need for you to lurk in the dark." He paced toward the bin, raising the heavy plastic lid. He hadn't spared a look behind him to take in the full view.

The cloud of cigarette smoke was blown toward the night sky as Brian Kinney huddled underneath his leather jacket, sitting on the picnic tabletop, resting his bare feet on the bench seat. "I've been here, Vic. Up in Michael's room. I came down `cause I couldn't fuckin' sleep for shit!" The rumpled bed hair covered any real expression on Brian's face.

Vic took precautionary steps, his hands in the pockets of his robe. "Son... what are you tellin' me? Why are you here and not at...?" He was almost in front of Brian, when the young man shot up straight. Vic was certain this was a defensive move to tell him to _stay away_. That Brian was fine. Nothing was wrong. "Michael..."

Brian snorted a strangled laugh. "Michael's fine, Vic. It's me that's screwed." He took another drag off his smoke. "But we know that already."

This perplexed Vic to no end. "I'm glad to hear that Michael's okay. Mind explaining this shit about yourself?"

Brian ignored the blatant question. "Have you ever wanted something so bad... knew that if you had a _taste_... there would come a day where you knew you'd regret making a move to go for it?"

Vic thought he understood slightly. He played along for Brian's sanity. "Of course."

Brian nodded simply, blowing out the smoke beyond his lips. He snuffed out the butt on the homemade ashtray in his hands. He caressed the deformed ceramic, like he knew for a fact that somehow Michael had forged this freak item at summer camp. It was the little things Michael did that tugged at his heart. "I love him, Vic." Those haunted hazel eyes closed in agony. "He has my complete heart and... he has no idea how much control he has over me."

The pieces were falling together now. Something had happened to jar Brian into shock about he and Michael's relationship. "You know he'd never be that way with you. He knows, certainly, but he'd never use it against you."

"I know..." Brian shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's what's plaguing my mind. I know Michael's not the kind of person to be a bastard about things, but... the shit happened. I was spooked... I ran. I didn't allow Michael to voice his side. I'm afraid I may have... that I may have stayed away too long to explain myself. You know me, Vic, I'm a confronter. I don't allow the bad shit to sit and worm it's way into my mind. So, tell me why I'm sittin' here, tryin' to sleep in his bed, stayin' at his childhood home... a place where I've felt more love and comfort than anywhere... except in his arms? Why?"

Vic began to laugh lightly, shaking his head. "You did it to yourself, Brian. In fact, you even answered your own question." He slowly wandered about to grab a seat on the bench, next to Brian's bare leg. He just noticed Brian's state of near undress. "What the hell are you wearing? Aren't you freezing?" Vic was already in motion to remove his robe. He would be fine for a few minutes since he had on an old zippered sweater over his pajama top. Sometimes his regimen of HIV+ meds made him flow between hot flashes and fucking feeling like ice was in his veins. Vic placed the warm plaid robe over Brian's legs and tucking the soft material around Brian's thighs.

Brian choked on his reply. "Thanks, papa."

Vic stopped suddenly. "You haven't called me that in years, son." Now, he knew that whatever had gone on was striking a blow to Brian's heart deeper than he could vocalize. "Maybe if you told me, exactly what happened... we could talk out your thoughts. Figure this all out, together." He retook the bench, making sure he sat closer to Brian.

"Clay kissed Michael."

Vic was slightly stilted. Clay Buchanan was quite an impressive figure of a gay man. Vic knew Michael and Clay had instantly hit it off, creating a close bond, but... romantically? "You know this for a fact?"

"Clay admitted the **_fact_** to me just a few hours ago. Right after it happened."

"Well, that's gotta be... something, huh? Confessing that quickly means they weren't thinking about themselves. One of those _lost in the moment_ things that happen."

"I can't get it out of my head. The idea of Michael..."

"Cheating on you?" Vic was slowly figuring out how Brian's mind was working. "Do you even remember who Michael is, anymore, Brian? You've know him practically half your life and NOW you're having doubts about his loyalty? And where the fuck do you get off placing him on some higher ground above you? Michael's as human as you and me. Capable of fallacies and dastardly deeds. He's never given you any reason to make him think he was anything but the way he's always been."

"I thought..." Brian hung his head, running his fingers roughly through his ruffled hair.

"What? That being your boyfriend would earmark him as _**taken**_? You, as well as anybody, should know the dark secrets of our breed. That our penchant for cheatin' rises when there's another willing party involved. What makes you think being exclusively yours would make you any different?"

Brian covered his face with his hands. "I know. I thought I was safe. I told myself that I wouldn't fall into the similar pattern of so many. I'm just frightened that there was something I didn't do that made him even think there was some kind of chance with Clay. That he had to allow the kiss to happen to be... sure that he loved me more than fuckin' some random guy."

"But a random guy would be totally different Brian. Clay and Michael have gotten to be fast friends. Michael's been a fan of that book since it came out. Michael doesn't do anything without having thought it out so thoroughly in his mind, askin' question upon question, weighing consequences. He doesn't do situations lightly, but he also doesn't methodically plan to harm you... or anyone else, for that matter."

"That's why I haven't been able to fall asleep."

"Why?"

"First, I don't know who I'm angry at. Clay, Michael, me, the circumstances, or just a gay man's libido... and second... shit... Vic..." Brian looked completely, utterly drained. "I've gotten accustomed to sleeping with him. My insomnia returns whenever he's not around. Fuck! Does that sound truly pathetic, or what?" He turned his watery eyes to gaze over at Vic, who had raised himself to stand directly in Brian's line of vision.

Vic forcibly grabbed Brian's face in his two chilled hands. He gently smoothed the rough edge of stubble. "It's fuckin' real, Brian. That's nothing to sneeze at. If being in love were easy, we'd all be fuckin' certifiable. Because nothin' comes into our lives that easy. Love is sneaky. Love is cruel. Love can be bewildering. Love can also be... a comfort. Love is a tender squeeze to your heart. Love will always be in your life. You just have to know when to hold on. Hang on with all that you've got." Vic tilted Brian's face to make sure those penetrating hazel eyes latched onto him. "I know you know... that this is _Your Time_. Time to decide what's important to you. What you and Michael have built together... or some stupid kiss...?"

Brian reached out his hands to grab onto Vic's biceps, petting them, covered by the knitted sweater. He was nodding his head, completely absorbed in the one movement that he worked himself into a full fit of gut-wrenching tears. His poor head fell forward hitting Vic's chest, dead center. He felt the hands move to cup the back of his neck. A smattering of kisses were placed on his bowed head.. "It... hurts... so... much... Vic!" His shaking hands moved to grab a hold of the lapels of the sweater.

"Christ! Kid, let the fuckin' stupid shit out... or it will eat at you and wither you to nothing. Something that being sick has proven to me, time and time again, is that... these little things, the baby fouls.... they don't fit in the Big Picture. If you let this be your breaking point... of ending it with Michael... then you've made it into a bigger issue. It really isn't. Sure it hurts..." Vic opened his arms to allow Brian to come into his embrace as he rocked the young man into some solace. "If love didn't hurt like it does... then it ain't worth shit. We were dead inside before it even got serious."

Brian tried to use his sleeves to wipe at his nose as he pushed away from Vic. "I must love him more than I ever imagined, because it feels like I'm fuckin' dying over here."

Vic wrapped a single palm around the nape of Brian's neck, bringing the beautiful face close to his own. "Welcome to the real fuckin' world, Brian Kinney. It's a fuckin' mess, but you'll enjoy the ride." This time Vic was the one to distance himself. He took a quick glance over Brian's mismatched attire. "Are you out here in your underwear, son?"

"I sleep naked, Vic. This is just a formality for the neighbors."

Vic reached out to open the leather jacket to see what was underneath. A light blue, tight T-shirt depicting a faded iron-on transfer of Captain Astro and Galaxy Lad was displayed on the front. "A little old for comic book heroes, Brian, aren't ya'?"

Brian looked down at the old shirt of Michael's he had found in the drawer. It hadn't been enough to be in Michael's old house, in Michael's old room, sleeping in Michael's old twin bed, cuddling Michael's old pillow, covering himself with old Captain Astro linen, absorbing Michael's old ghosts in the room. Brian had needed to be completely enveloped by his best friend and lover. "I can't believe Mikey still had this one. I bought it for him one year, when he was all _gung-ho_ about the Dynamic Duo. It gives me peace to wear it. Makes me feel like he's right next to me. Near my..." His fingers barely glazed over his right upper chest.

Vic knew as he placed a warm hand over the flesh, feeling the steady beating underneath. "Heart... and no one knows how strong it's been, son. Maybe I've confused you tonight. Maybe I've been able to allow you to vent, but I'm not gonna tell you what to do. That's you and Michael's business." He tipped Brian's face to make him look at him. Vic hated the way Brian felt he always should have to hide, being ashamed of his feelings. "Brian... I'm not gonna love you any less, because of your choices. Hell, I've made some pretty fucked up decisions that I wish I could take back. I've learned my lessons the hard way. I'm just here to tell you... this **_kiss_**... is nothing compared to how you would feel without Michael in your life." Vic's hand went to cup Brian's shoulder as he no longer had to force Brian to look at him. Those gorgeous hazel eyes stared intently. "I'm not belittling your pain, it's valid. Clay and Michael are assholes for making you feel this way, but... to destroy your love for Michael because of it? Hell yeah, I'd be angry. Only try to imagine how _**they**_ feel... for doing this to you. Pretty shitty, I bet. The longer you stay away from Michael and choose NOT to discuss things... well, the more you make him think what he did was bad, terrible, awful. You'll make him think it's the END of the world. Deb's the same way. Mother and son will fret that they are the most cruelest people in the world... and be the first one's to apologize."

"I know... it's kind of refreshing to know that I don't always have to be the bad guy. Even good people have their ups and downs." Brian took a little pleasure in finding that even nice people had clay feet.

Vic pretended to push Brian away from him. "Then why the hell are you still sittin' here?!"

"Because..." Right then, perfect timing, the dryer buzzer went off. "I put a load of laundry in with my jeans... just to pass the time while I was out here unable to sleep." He jumped off the table, handing Vic the robe as he followed the older man inside. Brian noticed that Vic was making his way back upstairs, probably feeling the exhaustion of missing sleep. He felt he should begin a new project, within himself. "Hey, papa!"

Vic had draped the open robe over his body, turning to see Brian walk over to him, jeans in his hands. "Did I ever tell you... I liked the sound of that?" The smile widened as he watched Brian dress in the middle of the kitchen linoleum.

Pulling up the warm material over his chilled lower half, Brian buttoned himself up. "Well, I like saying it. But most of all, I like saying it because I mean it." With the confidence given to him at birth, Brian stepped up to Vic Grassi, grabbing the back of his neck and making sure he had the man's attention on his mouth. "Just like I mean this." Brian planted a kiss on Vic's startled lips, bringing him into a bear hug and semi-lifting him off his slippered feet. "You've been the only father I'm willing to admit I have... and the one I will adore until my last dying breath." He was about to exit, leaving a teary-eyed bewildered Vic in the center of his sister's kitchen. "If Michael should call... tell him I'll be **_home_** in a few hours."

Vic squinted his eyes at Brian. "Not directly, I'm assuming." He trailed after the young man as Brian headed to the front door.

Opening the door, Brian stood in the moonlight and street lamps, grinning like the cat who ate the canary. "Not yet, I got someone to visit before I can talk to him. Wish me luck."

Vic had no idea what strange explanation Brian just gave him. "Luck."

As the door shut, blocking out the cold night, Brian managed to get the final word. "Love ya, papa."

The door closed and Vic Grassi stood, tears falling down his cheeks as he whispered these words to his heart. "Love you, too, son."  
 **  
**

**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
The incessant banging had awakened the person charging down the front stairs. **"Hang on! I'm comin'! Hold your fuckin' horses!"** The bottom step was easy to come off to head directly to the front door. The door chain only allowed inches of the door to open. "What the-? Brian? What are you-?"

Standing on the front porch, Brian hung his head, knowing this was absolutely the worst time to pay a visit. He put out a palm to hold the door open so the person behind it wouldn't simply slam it in his face. She was known to have a knee jerk reaction like that, just at the mention of his name. He didn't even have to be in the room. "Can I come in? Can I see him? I know he's probably sound asleep, but..."

"Hang on!" Closing the door, the chain was removed. "Get your sweet ass in here, Kinney. It's a fuckin' Ice Age out there." Melanie reached out a hand to pull on his nice leather jacket, dragging him in. "I'd like to fight with you in warmth."

Brian remained in the foyer, knowing that he wasn't usually allowed to roam this house without proper supervision. "I don't wanna fight, Mel. I just... I need to see Gus."

Melanie looked at her watch. "It's fuckin' one-thirty in the morning, Brian! You picked a fine time to visit with your son!" Her usual cattiness was in full swing as her arms crossed over her pert breasts. She had been asleep herself.

Closing his eyes to the pain, Brian nearly fell, begging at his adversary's feet. "I can't go into too much detail. If you don't want me here... just..." New experiment, he remembered he was going to try on people. "Tell Gus that I'm sorry. That I'm gonna try to be more of a presence in his life, if he'll let me... and... that I...." He had to clear his throat in order to continue. Once he gathered himself together, he didn't realize that a renegade tear had escaped down his cheek. "Tell him that Daddy loves him." He tried to grab for the doorknob, but Melanie blocked his path.

"Wait! Fuck! Shit!" Melanie leaned weakly against the door, pushing Brian a few inches away. "Are you drunk? Or high? What the hell is goin' on with you?"

Brian suddenly realized something. "Where's Linds?"

Melanie got a kick out of the catch in Brian's voice. She was always the Big Baddie around him. "Afraid of a girl kickin' your faggot ass, Kinney?"

Brian was actually looking at Melanie's comment as a poor excuse to how they had managed to form a relationship with each other. Both going for the jugular. Truly sad, not very adult, either. "I'm sorry, Melanie."

"What?" Melanie shook her head in perplexity. Had she heard correctly?

"I'm trying to change."

"Isn't it a little late for that?"

"It's never too late. You just have to be willing to listen and accept what I have to say."

Melanie didn't like the calm, cool, rational Brian. "Christ! Did you find God!?"

Brian actually chuckled lightly, wiping at his cheek. "Nah... I've had a moment of clarity. A realization that maybe I've been living my life the wrong way. Assuming that because I speak one way, that people know exactly what I mean. Words can be misconstrued so easily, if taken out of context. So, I've decided to resort to plain speaking. Taking a different approach to saying my mind. Blending it with what I feel in my heart."

Melanie snickered, still confused, but leaning back against the front door. "This ought to be good. You're a fuckin' brilliant ad executive for a reason, I guess. So... go ahead, sell me the new, improved Brian Kinney." Her eyes dared him to impress her.

"See, Mel, it's already started. You complimented me in the middle of your snarky comments. That's what I'm talking about." Melanie continued to shake her head in bewilderment, so Brian went on. "I know I haven't made your life any easier. I suppose I should take some blame, which I will, but you've given back your fair share, so I'm not the only one at fault." She nodded in agreement, waiting for more of his explanation. "I do like you. I like you because you remind me of myself. I guess that why we butt heads so well. We both are stubborn and bullheaded... but something niggles at my brain that there's an underlying emotion that we haven't bothered to touch. We allow the anger and frustrations to overwhelm us."

"And what exactly is there, Brian?" Oh, God! Melanie wanted to hear this one.

"Admiration. Respect. With a smidgen of, dare I say it... **_love_**...?"

"Run that by me again?!"

"I think we're both people who have beaten obstacles in our lives, that would have dragged any normal person to their knees. But you and I, we made a success of ourselves, without anyone's help. We've been able to find that one person who defines us. Who makes us question things and begin to wonder if we had to do our lives over again.... the same pain and battles, in order to end up with Lindsay and Michael as our respective partners for life... we'd do it, because we'd die without them. Are you catching what I'm saying?"

Oddly, Melanie was able to understand. "How can you call it **_love_** if we're constantly at one another's throats?" This is what she didn't comprehend.

Brian paced to Melanie, softly cupped her shoulders, pulling her up off the door paneling. "Because I'm getting tired of fighting. I wanna call this... thing between us... something rare and precious. You're my son's mother, whether I wanted things to end up this way. That's my cross to bear. I shouldn't place it on your shoulders. Just like I think it's time for you to let go of what Linds and I might have shared in college. She and I are close friends, we love each other and I am the father of your son together. I will always be a part of your life, because I will make myself a part of my son's life. It's up to us whether to be grown ups about the situation."

Melanie couldn't help the shocked expression on her face. "What the fuck happened to you tonight, Kinney?"

Brian let go of Melanie, a tiny smirk spread across his lips. "Nothing you need to know. I know how to fix it, though. Can I see him? Or do you want me to leave? Simple... yes or no."

Covering her mouth, Melanie glanced up the steps. "Christ! It'd be a shame not to let you do something, for all your efforts." She didn't expect the gentle peck to her cheek or Brian turning to take the stairs two at a time. "Hey!" He paused while she walked up to grab the end of the landing. "You've given me a lot to think about. Don't think this conversation is over."

Brian actually let out a full laugh. "Cool... because we have a lot in common and I think we'd have loads to talk about!" He winked at her as he went up to find his son's room.

Bowing her head over the railing, Melanie shook her head in shock. "What in the hell just happened? Who the fuck was that?" She stared where Brian disappeared and began to lock up again. Knowing this NEW Brian... he would be here until the morning, sharing breakfast with his son.

What the fuck would she tell Lindsay?  


**  
~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
Brian walked down the hallway, intent on finding his son's bedroom door. He pretty much knew where it was, but with the way he was feeling, the late hour he was invading Lindsay and Melanie's home... he wanted to be sure he didn't open too many squeaky doors. He found the correct bedroom, discovering he could barely walk over the threshold.

Gus lay asleep. Probably once put under the bed linen, he'd been safely tucked away. But right now, the situation was very different.

Gus's little feet had kicked away the covers, feeling the warmth of the house was too much for his overheating body. The center of the child's bed was taken up by his small frame. He slept like the dead, his arms were spread out in all directions. His pajama T-shirt top was twisted about his body. The left tiny pant leg was pushed up nearly to his knee. Gus had his mouth slightly open, breathy snores coming from within.

Christ! Brian wiped at his face, finding himself getting choked up. That's how Michael slept. Completely and utterly lost into dreamland. God, how ironic that he should find the second love of his life sleeping in the same manner. Slipping in as quietly as he could, Brian looked about the room to see if he could find something to sit on, soak in this vision of sweet innocence. Something so pure in its beauty no ounce of reality, warped and fucked-up, could penetrate the image.

Lindsay must have kept the old rocking chair she'd used when she cradled Baby Gus, nursing him on fitful nights, rocking him when he needed his mother's calming touch. Brian envied his son. Maybe slightly jealous of the incessant amounts of love Gus'd been given upon his birth.

Dragging the antique rocker over to the side of the bed, Brian sat forward, intent on making sure he had come for all the right reasons. Gus didn't need all of his father's bullshit to carry on his little shoulders.

The news that Clay and Michael had kissed stunned Brian into an unusual quiet. Where he would normally be spitting back a snarky comment or preparing to do physical harm to Clay, Brian felt... nothing. Well, not _no-thing_ , but it was like someone had drained the feeling right out of his body as easily as donating a pint of blood.

The discussion with Vic had cleared up a few of his own confused thoughts.

Brian sat back in the rocker. His fists grabbing the clawed ends of the armrests in his palms. He was holding his body tightly together, like he'd completely fall apart in less than two seconds. Of course he was angry. Any red-blooded gay, or straight, man would be. But it was Clay's blatant openness about knowing that he and Michael knew they had made a mistake. That they knew the kiss shouldn't have happened. That they might actually have discussed Brian in the sexually charge aftermath and decided that telling him was their best response instead of hiding behind false truths.

Brian knew Michael. Had known him for half his life. Knew the kind of person his best friend, and eventual lover, would be with anyone he'd come into contact with.

Michael was _passion_. _Passionate_ about his family. _Passionate_ about his comics. _Passionate_ about his friends. _Passionate_ about everything in his life.

Michael was pure energy. Soaking up the power and draining it back to everyone in his vicinity.

Brian also had begun to learn what he had almost forsaken by not pursuing Michael sooner than he had.

Michael was a giving lover. Michael could make a man feel like he was the only person on the planet. All that you had to do, or say, was something spectacular and he would enrapture his whole self, his entire being, in whatever action followed.

Brian was jealous of those few seconds taken away from him. Being given to Clay. If he closed his eyes, long enough, he could picture the scenario perfectly.

The way Michael would have wrapped his body around Clay's tall lanky frame. The way Clay's hands would have molded and formed about Michael's tight muscles. Both their full lips meeting in such empowered intensity, biting and thrusting together in a harmony that would be unparalleled.

He knew because that's how Michael kissed, with his eyes closed.

Quickly, Brian put his hands up to his eyes, hoping to stem the tears threatening to fall again. The bone shattering, gut-wrenching sobs he'd been needing to let go of, since ending his talk with Vic, lay somewhere in the region of his empty belly. He was hungry, but didn't think food was going to remain in his stomach tonight.

Slowly, Brian pushed off from the floor with his feet, sending the rocker into motion. He could almost sense the ghost of his own mother, possibly rocking... gently cradling her own son, in her arms to settle him as a baby.

It was a truth he couldn't prove. He'd either forgotten the fact by her unjust cruelty, or maybe... it hadn't happened. That Brian had always been unloved and unwanted.

Funny, how he could want a connection to his own mother at this time of grief.

Silly, how he actually felt like he was grieving for something between Michael and him. Like he felt a sudden loss of something special and unique. He was fighting within himself to battle against being just like every other couple in love. Brian never thought it could come to a point where Michael would be the one to stray.

In his childhood dreams, Brian had once thought he and Michael could be a couple. Being best friends for so long would just make it easier to come into a closer relationship.

Only too many things fell in the way of keeping the inevitable from happening. Not exactly THINGS, but there were two people who prevented Brian from even stepping over an imaginary boundary line between Michael and him, when it came to sex and a commitment.

Jack Kinney's constant barrage of **_"Never shoulda been a family man"_** , and **_"Never shoulda been born"_** continued to repeatedly clang around in Brian's head. Even against all the physical abuse Jack infringed on him, nothing compared to the legacy of words passed down. Words that, when constantly screamed at him while the fists and the kicks came flying, penetrated his weakening body, piercing his fragile, emotionally unstable heart. The bruises and the broken bones and limbs were easy to cure... easy to mend, but the verbal purging that echoed in Brian's mind was far more damaging.

Brian had been made to feel like he was less than human. Less than salvageable because of WHO he was born to. Jack Kinney never amounted to much. Hence, his son, his only heir, would carry on the family tradition.

At a very young age, Brian had wanted nothing more than to end his piteous life. This pious Lord, the Almighty God, Joan Kinney had dragged her son to church to pray to, and beg forgiveness from, was an elusive savior. Brian had spoken too many unanswered prayers. Wishing to be shown a sign that someone wasn't playing a twisted joke on him. Making him suffer Hell on earth and being so relentlessly unforgiving.

Then... Brian met Michael. Joan had talked about a Saint Michael, the dark angel who'd driven Satan out of Heaven. And Brian couldn't have seen a better **_sign_** , than this, to show that maybe this God thing wasn't such a crock of bullshit.

Though tiny in his body, Michael Charles Novotny had a colossal strength that knew no bounds. His heart was bigger than life. His arms were more soothing than the best salve. His protective nature was more courageous than the fiercest beast of nature. It was Michael's tears that could wound you in a second of your next breath. It was his laughter that could resound such joy that you had to wonder if angels did exist in the secular world.

Brian treasured his new best friend. His one true best friend. His... _only_...

Brian recalled watching Michael come out of his hibernating shell. Debbie Novotny had sheltered her baby boy, hoping to save him the heartache she knew was out their waiting for him. Watching how Brian held himself, so confident at his age, so controlled in his emotions... Michael wanted to BE like Brian. He would consistently try to break out of the restraints his mother had put on him.

Debbie held Brian solely responsible for this rebellious change to her sweet-natured son.

That wasn't the only thing Debbie had said to Brian.

Debbie boasted about having been the one to figure out that her son was gay. She'd informed Michael of his sexuality at approximately 6:03pm one day after school. With proper pamphlets and manuals, Debbie had already signed herself up for the membership to PFLAG the day she had the **_talk_** with her son.

Michael had such support behind him that his _coming out_ was pretty much a letdown.

Brian watched his best friend fall in love for the first time. Had to watch him hold hands with another boy. Stared openly as Michael shared a kiss with another, besides him. Stood quiet as Michael regaled the first time his **_boyfriend_** had felt him up.

Then eventually heard about the first time Michael made out in the backseat of a 1987 Ford Thunderbird. There had been a sweet exchange of blow jobs and hand jobs. Michael quickly claimed they had fallen more in love that night. Except the following day... when, for the first time, Brian was a witness to the ultimate heartbreak. To say Michael was devastated would be making light of larger-than-life feelings. Even at that young age, Michael loved with his entire being. There wasn't anything Michael's partner should want.

Debbie went ballistic. Blaming Brian for making her son feel like he could have ANY boy he wanted. Flinging his poor fragile heart every which way, with no qualms to the eventual outcome. Both of them, Brian and Debbie, had agreed that men were shit. And they were only good for two things, sex and odd jobs around the house.

Debbie pulled Brian aside one night, following the breakup of Michael and his **_boyfriend_**. She asked... _why hadn't Brian known what would happen? Why wasn't he there to shield Michael? Why hadn't he been strong enough to protect Michael from harm? How could he have let this happen to his best friend? Didn't Brian care about Michael?_

Unfortunately, it was worse than what Debbie could have ever thought on her own. Of course, Brian cared about Michael. Of course, Brian liked Michael and wanted to do anything and everything to save that precious heart. But, frankly, it also meant that Brian was in love with Michael... more than he ever would admit to. Debbie, through her crocodile tears and sobs, begged Brian to watch out for her boy. And... if Brian thought back long enough and concentrated, he could recite, word for word, exactly what Debbie had asked of him that night...

 **_"And if you should EVER think about breaking Michael's heart, too... the same way this little asshole did... I will fuckin' hunt you down and kick the shit out of you. They'll have to call the friggin' cops on me. Haul me to jail. To drag me offa you!"_ **

Brian knew Debbie was as passionate about her son as Michael was about everything in his life. He knew her threats were empty. And she knew what Brian was suffering inside the Kinney household. She would never follow through on her words.

But she had said it. Brian had been trained well to store that kind of information in the back recesses of his mind. He knew that should he take what he desired most, for himself, and the outcome end in the relationship not working out, any slight chance of Michael's heart breaking would put him in the doghouse.

Brian stayed as far away as he could, without harming either of them. Except the long years of allowing Michael's feelings for his best friend to grow and mature, gave Brian no time to prepare for the moment when Michael would hand him an ultimatum. Brian could recall that exact moment and felt the rush of blood to his groin. That was the night Michael had suddenly become more cherished in his heart.

The night that Brian Kinney made love to his best friend, Michael Charles Novotny.

Each minute following their coupling, Brian had grown to feel that HE was the luckiest man in the world. To be happy, take pleasure from a giving lover and find an inner peace that knew no end.

And now... to think that Michael was feeling something was _lacking_ in their relationship to kiss Clay. So innocently... so passionately. Brian wanted nothing more than to run away.

Which he did, but found that the farther, the faster, he tried to run... the more Michael plagued his waking, and dreaming, mind... without Michael to run to, Brian found he had nowhere to go. No one to turn to.

That's why he had found himself at the Novotny house. The place that held those sweet memories of their youth. The **Michael** Brian had fallen in love with. The more Brian tried to get up the courage to leave, the more he knew that without Michael... he would be lost. Wandering alone and be unable to truly define his purpose here.

Secure in Michael's arms... entangled in Michael's bed... and kept safe in Michael's heart, Brian knew where he belonged.

Gus did the same for Brian.

Michael and Gus grounded him. Gave Brian reasons for seeing the light in the darkness.

Finally lifting his head from it's resting position on the rungs on the back of the rocker, Brian scooted forward to come into closer contact with his beloved son. It blew his mind how Jack could have hated him so much, when Brian felt nothing but love for Gus.

A little hand was just laying in plain sight above Gus's chest, caught on the rise and fall of his breastbone. His large palm flat, Brian picked up the delicate hand, placing the tiny palm against his own. Brian's other hand began to gently pet the soft, pale skin. So warm... so perfect... so pure... so tolerant of the crazy mixed up world he'd been born into.

Overcome with holding back for so long, Brian began to choke on his sobs. And unable to really control the overflow once it started, Brian buried his face in the entwined hands with Gus. He felt the tender caress to the back of his neck in under two minutes of releasing his suffering emotions.

 **==========tbc...==========**


	2. Chapter 2

Lifting his eyes, Brian caught the scared, frightened gaze of those similar hazel eyes looking widely at him. "Hey... Sonnyboy..." He tried to wipe at the moisture on his face, knowing he couldn't hide from Gus now.

"Are you okay, Daddy?" The whispered inquiry coupled with the tiny hand moving so innocently to pamper his father's discomfort, Gus outstretched his cotton sleeve to help dry the tears falling. There was true care and worry behind the gesture.

Brian was destroyed. Completely lost in his emotional breakdown as he fell across Gus's bed. His head burrowed to rest in Gus's lap. The small fingers combed relentlessly through the shaggy mahogany hair as the other hand went to massage the expanse of Brian's heaving back.

Brian felt the teeniest kisses pressed to his face and the gentle, comforting words spoken as Gus gave his father what Lindsay and Melanie did for him whenever he got upset.

When his father was quiet and calming, Gus brushed a lock of hair behind his father's ear, moving his lips to speak into the canal. "Did you have a bad dream, Daddy?"

Brian closed his eyes at having to lie to his son. "Yup... plus..." He shuffled from under Gus's tender touch to look at his son's sweet cherub face. "Plus, I missed you." He pressed a long kiss to Gus's cheek, making little noises against the warm skin, which caused a few giggles to escape. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

"That's alright." Gus moved his little body over, shuffling under the covers and opening them for his father to crawl into. "Does Unkil Mike know you're here?"

Taking off his jacket, throwing the object over the back of the rocker, Brian slipped off his shoes before he crawled in bed to lay next to his son. He lay on his right side, facing Gus, who was on his back. "Go to sleep, Gus."

"Can we call him in the morning?" Gus's voice sparked an edge of such happiness to be in the presence of Michael, even over a distant phone line.

Brian pulled the covers to tuck Gus back into bed. "We'll see, son... we'll see..."

"You don't think he'll be angry with me?"

"For?" Brian stared at Gus in confusion as he placed a hand under his cheek to rest on.

"How will Unkil Mike sleep?"

Brian found he had to swallow cautiously, unprepared for what would come out of Gus's mouth. "Why do you think Michael won't sleep tonight?"

Pushing at his father's chest, Gus tried to show his father that this was a fact that should be known to him. "Come on! Sometimes, I get scared after bad dreams... and Mommy will come in... an' I'll be okay. Other times..." He moved out from under the blankets to reach the edge of the bed frame, pulling up a soft fleece throw. "... Mommy says for me to wrap myself in this, for when she isn't here." As he returned to the top of the bed, Gus began to drape the puny material over Brian. "It's my _**binkie**_."

Brian began to giggle, despite the tears glistening his eyes. "You saying I'm Michael's **_binkie_**?"

Gus nodded as he climbed back under the sheets, laying on his left side, mirroring his father. "Michael's one, too. _**Binkies**_ don't hafta be just blankits, Daddy. They can be people. `Cause Mommy says it's what makes you feel safe... an' lov'ed..."

"Come here... you stinker..." Reaching out with tickling fingers, Brian turned Gus, spooning his chest around Gus's back. He let the silent tears fall as he felt his heart clench at such blatant truth coming from his young son.

How the hell had Gus become so insightful about human nature, but especially concerning Michael and him? He'd have to thank Lindsay for her subtle teachings... and tender, loving care of their son.

Grabbing his father's large hands, Gus securely fitted himself under his father's hulking shape. He loved these quiet, late-night moments with his father. "I'll be your **_binkie_** , Daddy... but just for ta'night." He settled in the center of the radiating warmth.

"And I'll be yours..." Brian managed to get out as he tucked Gus under his chin, laying his head on the soft pillows.

Maybe, finally, Brian could get some sleep.

Gus's real _**binkie**_ was stretched to fit over both slumbering father and son.

**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
Melanie had to back away from the door. She'd been satisfied with what she had seen. Giving Brian the space, and comfort, he'd needed from his son. She hadn't truly meant to listen in on their conversation, but when she heard the gut-wrenching sobs, Melanie had thought something was wrong with Gus.

To discover it was Brian, that Gus took the compassion he'd learned from all his parents and comforted his Daddy... was too shocking for her to stomach.

Turning away to head in the direction of her bedroom, where Lindsay still lay asleep, Melanie was also flabbergasted to think that something she had done with Gus... just on a random whim... had stuck with him for this long. It touched her heart, quiet heavily, to see Gus talk about her **_binkie_** story, using it so unselfishly to comfort his grieving father.

**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
Lindsay was extra cautious when she came down the stairs, after her morning bath. Looking smart and demurely sexy in a floral print sarong-style dress made of sheer fabric, she jogged down the steps with her heels hanging off her fingers. There was a lot of noise coming from the kitchen.

Melanie had risen early and must have begun breakfast, but who in the world could she be laughing and talking with so amicably?

A smile plastered on her pink-painted lips, Lindsay walked into her kitchen to find Brian Kinney at her breakfast table.

A happily, bed rumpled, sexy and laughing **Brian Kinney**.

Melanie was smiling just as widely... and in the middle of pulling some toast out of the toaster. She actually carried the plate to Brian, without it ending up in his face, or lap.

 _What in the world? Was this the right house? Was she actually up... or was she still sleeping in bed?_

Trying to carry the moment on like it wasn't a big deal, for Gus' sake, Lindsay popped on over to Melanie's side. "Mornin', sweetie." Kissing the offered cheek, she watched Melanie take the empty seat next to Brian. "And to what do we owe this visit, so early in the day, Brian?"

Brian was helping Gus with his cereal and orange juice, pouring out equal amounts. "I spent the night, Linds." He wiped a hand on his napkin, digging into his own bowl of corn flakiness. "Pass me a banana, would you, Mel... please."

Lindsay watched her partner of nearly eight years get up and do Brian Kinney's bidding. She recalled the days Melanie wouldn't say _**"boo!"**_ to Brian just because of what she thought he hadn't done. _What had happened overnight?_ She leaned on the back of Melanie's chair. "Is... ah... is everything alright? With work? With Michael?" She wanted someone to throw her a _bone_ to figure this mystery out.

Brian looked to Melanie, sharing in a raised eyebrow look as if to say, _****Should we really involve her? It's such a long story.**  
**_  
Brian cleared his throat, looking away from Melanie's gaze. "Everything's fine, Linds. Work is great and Michael... well, Michael will always be Michael. What can I say?" He shrugged as he took another bite of his toast.

That wasn't much to go on. Lindsay took the seat across from Brian at the breakfast table. She placed her heels on the empty seat beside her. "Was there something important you needed to talk about? With me? About Gus?"

Brian shook his head in refusal. "Nope." His left hand wandered over to grab Melanie's on the table surface as he gave her a tight squeeze. "Mel and I talked. It was nothing spectacular." Picking up his bowl and plate, Brian carried everything over to the sink. "I'm gonna head out now." He pressed a kiss to Lindsay's right temple. As he came up behind Melanie, Brian leaned down to hug her tiny frame to his chest. "Thank you... so much, Mel. I don't..." He nearly choked on his next breath.

She patted his hands around her upper chest. "Then don't, Kinney." Melanie smiled sadly as she caught Lindsay's curious eye.

"Gotcha." Brian replied quickly, meshing his cheek with Melanie's. He squeezed her to him as he came up to say _**good-bye**_ to Gus. "Later." He clicked his index finger and thumb like a gun.

"Later, dude." Gus clicked back, shooting a perfect bullseye, causing his father to clutch his heart.

Brian gave a good-hearted belly laugh as he waved **_bye_** walking out of the kitchen. "Love you, Binkie." Brian called out as he opened the front door.

"Love ya, too, Daddy!" Gus yelled back as he heard the door slam shut. He scooted off the chair as he pushed the seat back under the table. He did the same steps as Brian did, excluding hugging Melanie. Instead, he just stood by her side, hanging off the back of her seat. "Can I go watch TV now, Mommy?"

Melanie swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat when Brian had embraced her. "Sure, kiddo." She let him wander off with an apple in his hands. She watched him toss it up in the air and catch the glossy redness. As her eyes came back to face her breakfast bowl, she could feel Lindsay's intense gaze hitting her squarely in the face. "What?" She tried to stare back as equally bewildered by what had gone on.

"Mind telling me... what in the HELL just went on in this house while I was asleep? What have you done with the Great Brian Kinney?"

Melanie snickered her reply. "You got a few hours to kill?"

Lindsay rolled her wrist to look at the time. "I got up a few minutes before my alarm went off, so I guess I could listen to you while I eat my breakfast." She pulled over an empty bowl, the milk carton and the box of cereal.

"Well, see... it all started last night... No! Wait! It began even WAY before that. Let me explain..." Melanie began to reiterate all that Brian had confessed over a few short hours ago.

**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
Brian carried the plastic bags in one hand, while his briefcase and jacket were in the other. Once he was off the elevator, he plopped down his briefcase to dig around in his pockets for his key.

He wasn't sure if Michael had made it home, yet.

They hadn't made plans, except what to bring home for dinner. Chinese

The interior of the loft was dark. A solitary hue coming from a lone lamp lit near the sofa. Brian carried in the food first, then stepped back out in the hall to get his other things. He slid the door shut, pressing the necessary numbers to lock up the place until he knew where Michael was.

If he would be coming home later... or at all.

Shutting his eyes in pure exhaustion, Brian jerked his tie askew, unbuttoned a few buttons and rolled back his shirt cuffs. He toed off his shoes, walking on his silk socks over the mosaic tiled flooring. Some of his food needed to be refrigerated. He flipped on a ceiling light above the tiny kitchenette. Which lit only the area where Brian would be cooking, leaving the other parts of the loft still in the shrouded darkness.

Michael had wanted take-out, but something niggled at Brian to leave work earlier and stop off at the local grocer's market. Treat Michael to an actual meal that hadn't been deep fried in oils and fat for hours before they placed their orders.

Vegetables for a nice, small salad. A pack of boneless chicken breast strips. A mango spice marinade. Fresh French-cut green beans (Michael's favorite). Two slices of French Silk pie, already sectioned in their own private containers.

Brian dumped the bag containing the veggies for the salad in the sink to be washed, along with his French-cut green beans. He placed the chicken strips on the counter behind him next to a ceramic bowl. The jar of marinade off to the side, as well. The pie slices went immediately into the fridge, since they were mostly made of creams, possibly melting already.

Before he even thought about getting his expensive clothing mussed up, Brian began undressing himself on the way into the bedroom. He was too tired to care about much of anything, not even where his clothes landed as he paced toward the king-sized bed.

First off... came the constricting tie, thrown dangling from Brian's limp fingers. Next he undid the rest of the buttons on his silk shirt, yanking the hemmed edges out from his pants. He held his arms by his side, allowing the shirt to slip down his lengthy arms. It pooled at his feet. He stopped to undo his belt buckle as he steadily approached the inviting view of the bed he now shared with Michael.

Memories of Michael and him entwined, limbs enveloped around each other, swept through his mind. Nights of unending passion felt on those tangled sheets. Visions of dark chocolate eyes begging him to fuck him harder. Moist red lips inviting him to taste more... plunge in for a deeper connection...

Brian's dick throbbed with intensity. His tongue came out to wet his drying lips in anticipation of what nights in Michael's keeping were like in this bedroom. He stopped on the top step, the lump that had been in his throat since learning that Clay and Michael had shared one of those kisses... left him shocked into stupidity. He never would have thought it possible.

Not that Michael could find another man attractive and fuckable... but that HE, Brian Kinney, could be so mercilessly hurt. Bereft, left feeling betrayed by the idea of sharing Michael with anyone else for the rest of their lives together.

Yeah... The Great Kinney Pride was shattered, left achingly bitter and jealous.

Brian had foolishly wished that, once he and Michael had gotten to become more than simply best friends, then the rest of Michael's kisses would be his... and HIS alone.

An unspoken rule of loyalty.  
 ** _  
**You save your passion just for ME. Sex is simply an act of two people, but with YOU... it's fierce and intoxicating. It's love and compassion. Tender and romantic. Sex between US is two souls joining. A long ago promise made, being reborn.**_**

Everyone, even Brian himself, would have thought that HE would have been the one who strayed from the relationship, not Michael.

Just NOT possible.

Peanut Butter and Jelly. Warmed tomato soup and crispy grilled cheese sandwiches. Hot cinnamon bagels and melted cream cheese, any flavor. Those were tried and true combinations that worked by themselves, but together... they were tangible and delicious.

A perfect match... Just like Brian Kinney and Michael Charles Novotny.

Frustrations with his foolish, sentimental emotions made Brian move to his closet. He literally wrenched down a pair of jeans from the wooden hanger as he slipped out of his trousers. He kicked them off to fall near his night stand. He yanked off his socks, dropping them wherever they struck as he flung them. Concentrating on putting one foot in, then the other, he tugged on his jeans, shaking the worn material over his ass. He did up the button-fly, walking bare chested across the floor.

He took off all his finery. The silver watch, the ring and a gold bracelet Michael had given him. He plopped them all in the ceramic dish on the surface of the night stand. He forcibly pulled open the drawer, finding a familiar keepsake he hadn't felt the need to drag out for quite awhile.

The cowry shell bracelet. Once it had been his empowerment at his sexual prowess... now it was a reminder of the gift giver. It set Brian to rights in his mind to having a piece of Michael always on his body, while still feeling Michael inside of him. The braided black rope had seen better days, but it held true to the nature of the men it was meant to represent, and their constant draw to one another. The bracelet had outlasted the length of their friendship.

As he tenderly caressed the intricate weaving, and craftsmanship, rubbing over the smooth individual cowry shells sewn into the stitching, Brian silently prayed that this very bracelet would last twenty more years, and then some, of he and Michael's life together. And he could pass this on with love and pride to Gus as he grew into his manhood, loving whomever he chose as his life partner.

Brian's head snapped up as he recalled a moment last night when Gus hadn't been able to fall asleep, restless in the early morning hours. He had just dozed off a few hours before, when he felt the gentle rubbing of his right wrist and the soft tugs to his arm. **  
** **  
**

**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**   
**~ &&~Flashback-Last Night~&&~**

  
_"Daddy?" The little voice asked in the hushed silence of dusk `til dawn_

 _"Gus, go to sleep." Brian tried to bury his face in Gus's sweet scented hair, growing blonder, like Lindsay's, every day. Brian felt the incessant jostling of his arm, as if Gus was trying to see something in the moonlight from the window. "What are you...?" He lifted his head to see Gus twisting his right wrist. The gold bracelet was glinting mischievously in the dim light from the window. "Sonnyboy..."_

 _"Daddy... w'as dhis say?" Gus could feel the tracings of letters etched on the flat, rounded surface of the expensive jewelry._

 _Brian reached above his head. A small lamp clamped to Gus's headboard. He switched on the extra lighting to show his son the peculiar printing. Tucking his chin in the tiny crevice between Gus's neck and shoulder, Brian held out his right hand, showcasing both ring and bracelet. "It says... **ALWAYS HAVE**..." He set his lips to tenderly kiss the soft baby skin under him._

 _Gus scrunched his face in confusion. " **'Always have'** what, Daddy?" He curled a small hand under his cheek, slightly turning, half on his back to look directly into his father's expressive eyes._

 _"Michael wears one that completes the saying."_

 _"W'at's hiz say?"_

 _"... **ALWAYS WILL**..."_

 _"W'as that mean?" Gus reached out, lost in the thought that Michael was wearing one just like this. Touching his father's would be like touching Michael's. His heart filled with love for the funny, dark-haired man who he enjoyed spending all his time with._

 _Brian shut his eyes. He had thought coming to see Gus would set him to finding his place in the world. Possibly learning that he wasn't crazy to be feeling such pain at this time._

 _Michael wasn't infallible. Michael wasn't perfect. Michael wasn't to be placed on a higher plane of worship._

 _Michael was human. Michael had needs and desires like every other man. Even like Brian Kinney._

 _Brian held such respect for Michael that tarnishing his reputation simply wasn't sitting well with him. He didn't want any of this to be true. He wanted to rewind time and get back what he'd felt like he kept missing... kept losing as he let life easily slip on by him. But, he couldn't._

 _That's what Gus was showing him. His Sonnyboy was teaching him that you do things right the first time. Thereby preventing a harsh lesson learned. Brian wasn't that naive to think he could protect Gus, and Michael, every single minute of every single day. But he would damn well try!!_

 _"Michael and I, when we were close to your age, had these words we would tell each other. It was kind of our secret language. Our own special code. Saying **always have, always will** was our way of letting the other know... _ **You will always have my trust, as I will have yours. You will always have my respect, as I will have yours. You will always be my friend, as I will always be yours. You will always have my love, as I will always have yours. I will always have... You, as YOU will always have... ME** _..."_

 _Gus's hazel eyes widened in shock. "Those words mean all that!?!"_

 _Brian chuckled deeply at the way Gus's voice sounded completely enraptured by the tale. "Yeah, Gus." His own hazel gaze moved to the ring on his pinky. He wiggled it in front of Gus' nose. "See this one?"_

 _Gus giggled, his eyes semi-crossing by the beauty of the jewelry. "Yeah. It's kinda sparkly and pretty like the rings Mommy wears."_

 _"Michael gave this to me, too. On your last birthday. When you get older, it will become yours." Brian's voice paused as he watched Gus tentatively touch the precious gold and the gem embedded in it's simplicity. "That's your birth stone, Gus. Michael wanted me to have something I could pass on to you when you grow up. Then you will pass it on to your son, or daughter. And so on and so on..." He peeled off the ring to show the inside slope of the metal. "Michael had it inscribed for you, too. Your name, your birth date and one little word that described how we both felt when we learned you were born..."_

 _"What?"_

 _ **"PROUD."** Brian squished his face close to Gus' own chubby one._

 _In utter awe and fascination, Gus admired his father's right hand and wrist. "I can't wait to grow up."_

 _Reaching up to turn off the light, Brian sniffed out a laugh. "Yes, you can, Sonnyboy. Yes... you can..."  
_ **  
**

**~ &&~Flashback End~&&~**   
**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
A dry sob exhaled from his aching chest. Brian stomped over to his dresser. He was about to put on a Tank-T shirt when he caught sight of a photograph on the top surface. He shut his eyes to the pain. He refused to succumb. He refused to give in to the ease of simple hurt.

Letting his baser emotions rule over his sharp mind. He was smarter than that.

Stretching the cotton fabric over his head, Brian tugged the material over his solid chest. He flattened the fabric once as his gaze moved about the bedroom.

Something was different. Brian sniffed once. He should have noticed it before.

Stepping up to the wooden bed frame, Brian gazed about the king-sized mattress, squinting his eyes to search for clues.  
 _  
What was he missing?_

A pillow... And a blanket...

Brian's eyes widened in complete shock.

 _Michael?_

Brian spun on his bare feet, looking out the second entrance to the bedroom, toward the lone lamp lit, causing a glow about the white sofa.

The darkened shape of legs shuffled on the cushions, trying to tuck the feet underneath the blanket.

Brian quickened his steps out of the bedroom. As he reached the lamp, he turned the switch to set it at a brighter level.

Michael was asleep. Dead to the world. Undisturbed, but fretful in his dream.

Brian wondered how cold the bed was. _Had Michael spent last night out here, just like he was now? Unable to sleep without him, either?_ A smirk slipped out to know how truly silly and mushy they were... for one another.

Michael didn't know what shook his body awake, but he stared ahead, sensing luscious eyes on him. "Stop staring. It's rude."

"I can't help it, Michael. You're, dare I say it?... beautiful when you sleep."

Michael covered the one visible ear. "Please don't say I look like an _**angel**_."

"Why not? You do."

Michael sighed, putting his hand down, pulling up the blanket more over his shoulder. "Well, then I may look like one, but I definitely don't act like one."

"You'll always be MY angel."

"Oh, Jez-sus!!" Michael buried his entire head. "Why aren't you yelling at me?"

"What's the point?"

Michael pushed off the blanket. "Aren't you angry?"

"Hell, yeah!"

"Then..." Michael was frustrated beyond belief.

Brian walked around the sofa arm to sit at the end, adjusting his body to fit in the corner to look at Michael as they talked. "I love you."

"Brian, I..." Michael tried to move closer.

Brian held up a palm to keep him back on his end of the furniture. "Don't move, Michael. I need to say something."

"Good. `Cause I think we need to talk." Michael obediently sat still, warily watching Brian.

"I love you, Michael... and I'm sorry..."

"YOU'RE sorry. Brian, I'm the one..." Michael's brow furrowed in befuddlement.

"I haven't been honest with you, Michael."

"What do you mean, Brian?"

Brian opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. He sat forward on the cushions, unwilling to look at Michael as he said this. "I know it's hard to believe that a man like me could dream about finding someone special to live out the rest of his life with, but it happened. I have my own fantasies to fulfill. I wanted parents who loved me. A father who was proud of me. A mother who wanted to touch me. Instead, I was given you. You became my world, since we were fourteen, Michael. You became my **_everything_**. The very air that I breathed..." He nearly choked on his words.

"Brian, no..." Michael forgot to obey Brian's boundary lines and crossed the couch to approach him. He reached out to squeeze Brian's hand in his, for reassurance. "You're apologizing for the wrong things, Brian."

"Yes and no. You're bigger than life for me, Michael. You were my own perfection personified. Untarnished and unmarred by the real world. I raised you to standards that no ONE human being could muster." Brian brought their joined hands to his lips, kissing the pale skin, resting the back of that hand on his burning cheek. "I know you never meant to intentionally kiss Clay. Nor did you mean to hurt me. I know those facts. I know them to be true. But what I didn't know was that if this situation had come up, how it would make me feel. What it would show me about myself. And what I'm seeing right now isn't really pretty. Actually it's quiet selfish and lame."

Michael curled his body around Brian's hunched form, brushing his hand through the disheveled locks, rubbing the stubble, pressing kisses to the hot skin. "I don't think anything you can do would be either."

Brian snickered out a laugh. "Well, it's happened. My proverbial bubble is burst-ed. I found out that my dream man, my very own fantasy come to life... is a human being. And that I... am just as human as he is." He choked on a sob that he wanted to release, putting hand over his mouth to stem it.

Michael leaned in to whisper in Brian's ear. "I love you, Brian Kinney. No matter what you may do in this life... you're mine to have... for always. As I am yours. Nothing and no one can change that." He watched Brian bend his head between his knees, shaking his head in agreement. "The kiss meant nothing, Brian. Maybe it was something we felt we had to get out of our system, but it went no further than the kissing. I swear."

"I remember how you kiss, Michael." Brian raised his head, shutting his eyes to the intense pain. "Just give me the space to get past it. Allow me to feel what I'm feeling. To do what I need to do in order to get by. I'm still your Brian, your best friend since we were fourteen. But the years have given me demons inside that don't know how to cope. So they do stupid things in order to get back at the people who mean the most to me. I can't promise that I'll know exactly what will happen." He wrapped his arm about Michael, pulling him close to his side, protectively. "But know this, I promise I will make a strident effort to assuage myself of my normal tendency to lash out. Seeking cold-hearted revenge at any given moment. I will stand by you. I will protect you. I will keep on loving you... because we're stronger than the fallacies we commit to each other."

"You're letting me off too easily, Brian."

"Thank you for being honest with me. The both of you. I like Clay, Michael. If it were anyone else..."

Michael patted Brian's chest, playing with the fabric of his T-shirt. "I know."

Brian squeezed Michael once before quickly releasing him. He turned to hold a hand down for Michael to take. "Come help me cook dinner. I didn't feel like ordering take-out Chinese. I thought we'd try sprucing up some old American food with a taste of Chinese flavor." Michael gripped Brian's hand tightly coming off the couch. He faltered a little in his footing. "You okay, Michael?" True worry shielded Brian's hazel depths from the sadness.

"Yeah. I barely slept a wink last night. You?"

Brian let a grin slip out. "What do you think?"

On tip-toes, Michael pressed a kiss to Brian's lips. He felt the initial sense of forbearing. Brian being apprehensive about pursuing anything sexual between them, for awhile. "Love you." He caressed the stubbled jaw line.

 **"Always have..."** Brian began.

 **"Always will..."** Michael finished as he stepped away from Brian to move into the kitchen.

Brian soon followed, but not before he turned to look out at the skyline of Pittsburgh, while softly stroking the cowry shells around his right wrist.

** ** _This is the man you want, Kinney. This is the man you've chosen to give your body, heart and soul to. Is he worth your sacrifices? Is living the same air he breathes worth losing a bit of yourself in the process? Can you be strong enough to let some pieces of HIM go? The ones you've held onto for years? Are you willing to become a *part* of one whole? Existing because he's there... by your side... for you? Because of your love and attention? Is HE worthy of you? Are all the bad times possible to get through, hurdle over... just to love him... and HIM alone?_** **

Closing his eyes to those inner voices that loved to plague him, Brian re-opened those penetrating hazel eyes to inwardly scream a resounding...

 _**"Yes!"** _

Brian calmly walked out of the living room, toward Michael, waiting for him in the kitchen. ****

 ****

**==========THE END==========**


End file.
